Revell Kustom Chopper, with Spooky Rider

The Story

Praetorius was a 17th century German nobleman who was killed during the Thirty Years' War (he can't recall on which side he fought; it was so long ago).  Mortally wounded, he lay dying on the battlefield (which one he can't recall either) when the Valkyries came to take the slain off to Valhalla. As they soared off into the heavens with their charges he raised his hand to implore them to wait just a little longer, but it was too late.  They were gone.  His lifeless hand fell back on his chest.

"Ach! Was nicht?" he muttered to himself.  Having thus missed the bus as it were, he decided he might as well get up and go home.

(Pardon me, readers, but this next bit is rather....distasteful.) Being thus a forgotten soul, Praetorius was stuck inside his decaying body.  He soon became a horror and an abomination to his fellow men, so he kept to himself to avoid further trouble.  In time all the soft tissue rotted away, leaving only the bones.  To avoid being seen, he went about mostly at night.  From time to time he would tire of walking and attempt to procure a horse to ride, but they were kinda scared of him and wouldn't let him.

Eventually he got bored with ambling around Europe.  After he'd seen it all two or three times, he decided to set out for the New World.  It took him several years to walk across the floor of the Atlantic Ocean.  He would periodically surface to see which way to go, which didn't help a whole lot because of the lack of landmarks, especially on cloudy days.

Eventually he got there.  As he wandered onto the Jersey Shore one night, he saw a brand new Harley Davidson Low Rider parked outside a motel.

"Ach, du liebe!" he cried.  "Donner und blitzen! Vhy shouldt I vear out mein veary bones mit valking, vhen I can rrrrrrride?" (Imagine the last word with a really gutteral German "r" sound, extended with great relish.)  As he touched the bike, it mysteriously transformed from a fairly ordinary Harley to the death-dealin' badass chopper you see in the pictures.  It was meant for him--he knew it!  The machine thundered to life beneath him and he roared off into the night, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.  (What the owner thought of this we'll never know, as he had died that very night from a viagra-assisted heart attack in the arms of a young wild one, trying to regain his lost youth.)

Now Praetorius rides it to church every Sunday, where he attends a fellowship of likewise forgotten souls.

The Model

I thought such a cool bike would need a cool rider, but it seemed the chances of finding anything suitable at anything like a reasonable price were mightly slim.  However, a quick Google search revealed an interesting possibility.  Promising, but where would you find a skeleton like that? In New Zealand, yet?  As luck would have it, a few days later my Good Lady and I went to Spotlight (a kind of haberdashery department store), and there in the Halloween section was a packet of decorations including---my skeleton!  I snatched one off the rack and raced to the counter with it.

The figure is made of resin and has no movable joints except the hips.  However, a little judicious surgery and local application of heat allowed me to shape it into a suitable pose to fit on Mr. Macabre.

Modifications

Like a real chopper, these models are great for modification.  For this reason, I'd recommend putting it together initially with the idea that at some point you'll want to take it apart again to make changes, i.e. light application of glue and painting with a brush rather than spraypaint/airbrushing so cuts, hacks, and fills can be covered less noticably.

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